I Survived
by Construct Master
Summary: The Atlas was running. Its dash generator was almost overloaded. The Pilot inside knew that fleeing was futile. Even if he ran, there was no way he'd make it through the explosion of Demeter. There was no way he'd survive. Rated T for typical Titanfall action, no real profanity. REVISED.
1. I can't survive

**The idea for this story formed as the final explosion enveloped Demeter in my Xbox match. It occurred to me, "What if you could eject to avoid the blast? What if you could survive?" The end result days later: This story.**

**One thing I need to mention. In this version, once Demeter's reactor is down it takes a minute or two to blow. In other words, the Pilots have just a little bit longer to live.**

"_Negative. This is Macallan. I've triggered the reactor core overload manually. Clear out as fast as you can, do not wait for ground forces."_

Guess I won't be hopping on a dropship. Sitting inside my Atlas, my heart races as I realize I won't be making it out this time. Construct M-43TR the Ace Militia Pilot is going to die.

Only a few minutes ago, I was sitting by hardpoint Charlie, simply waiting in the middle of the most hectic battle in Militia and IMC history. My C.A.R.'s ammo pool was running low, but I still had a few clips left. I had spent the time waiting for my Titan crouched in a corner at Charlie, with a few rounds for anyone who came to take the hardpoint. The core that would be the big red button to Demeter's doom was at 80% Reactor pressure, and our man Macallan had taken out any chance it of cooling down.

My Titan's timer hit 0:00, and I called the Atlas in immediately. Stepping outside, I ran toward the holographic green circle. The Titan crashed to the ground, an XO-16 Chaingun on its back and the hatch flying open. Two hops put me inside the mechanical behemoth, and as the viewscreen feeds slotted into place I could feel the control links engaging around my arms and legs.

Ready to go, I checked the Titan's HUD. The reactor was at 92% pressure and rising. Then a message flashed across the screen, written in a bold green. "Victory." Well that's nice. Except that means this place is about to blow itself to orbit.

Spinning around, I started charging away from the nearby tower, which had smoke and electricity coursing across it. My Atlas ran past Macallan's crippled and dismembered Ogre, past the damaged and deactivated turrets, past the smoldering remains of our dropship. I think I may have dishonored a few Militia corpses with a rather large footprint as I went past the wreck.

So here's me now. As I listen to the dooming transmission of our commander, the Titan's dash thrusters almost overloading, it sinks in that this hunk of armor and wire is not a life-saving suit. Heck, it's a life-taker.

I think about the events of the past week. I've fought IMC on a fueling facility, a rural colony, and through the wreck of a starship. I've fired off rounds in a deserted city, under a railgun's shadow, by an old tower, and on an IMC airfield. Victory or defeat, I always managed to make it out in one piece, my C.A.R. by my side. I've sat in at least 20 identical Titans. Don't ask me how many robots I've shut down; lives I've taken. And now it's all about to be over.

I continue to dash and run away from the smoking reactor. I know it's futile, but my instinct still tells me to flee. Wait, what's that? Three grunts and a specter running away, just like me. On my HUD, their friend-or-foe lights show up as red. IMC infantry. In a normal scenario, I'd blast them away, but I don't think this is a normal scenario. Really, I'd like to do some good before I die.

I swing the Titan around, quickly taking stock of the area through the blue cameras. A few dozen feet behind me is a crack in the terrain, the orange dirt abruptly dipping to create a lip in the earth. Pretty much the closest thing to solid cover around. Also nearby, just ahead is a downed IMC Fighter, with a now-empty specter rig on its side right next to it. Ok, I have an idea.

The grunts and their drone are still running, about to pass the Fighter. Dashing up beside them with ease, I activate the Titan's external speaker.

_"Look, I don't think this is a good time for our sides to matter. I need you to get by that specter rig NOW."_

The Specter turns, and as soon as it's targeting systems see me it starts firing it's Hemlock. The bullets glance off my shielding and I ignore him. The grunts meanwhile decide to listen to me, altering course to the empty rig.

I run my Titan over to the downed fighter. It takes only one pull from the robotic arms to separate the IMC ship's tethers to the rig. Turning to the now-free specter holder, I shove it right-side up. Activating the speaker again I call,

_"Get on! Now!"_

The grunts obey, standing on the rig where dormant specters once stood. I pick up the rig from the sides. It's heavy, but my Atlas can manage it without so much as a groan from the hydraulics. Rushing back to the lip, I set down the container with the grunts facing away from the doomed reactor tower. I take one last look at them. On their faces is a look of numb terror, perhaps at me or perhaps at the reactor about to explode. I hope this works….

I command the mech to run to the other side of the rig, on the upper part of the lip facing the reactor - just in time to see it collapse on itself. This is it. With an utterly massive crash, the reactor blows, and an explosive shockwave hurtles itself towards me.

Watching the wave of smoke and fire from inside the cockpit, I type in two buttons on the control pad. Hovering my finger over the last one, I wait as the wave approaches at dozens of yards a second.

1000 feet away...

750 feet…

500 feet…

The wave is 250 feet away. Pressing the last button, I hear Titan's nuclear termination powering up. I yank the eject handle, and launch out of the short-lived Atlas.

Sailing into the sky, I watch as the nuclear implosion meets the wave of the doomed reactor. The forces clash and my Titan's explosion manages to lessen the blow around it, forcing the wave's destructive power to move around it – and the rig.

But what goes up must come down, and I'm going down. Activating my jump pack to soften the descent, my body plummets into the still-furious wave. Even before I hit the ground I feel myself being thrown back by its force, and my back slams into the rig. That's the last thing I remember before it went black, the X of my visor blinking off.


	2. But I did

**MUCH APOLOGIES! I was looking over this today, proofing it again when I realized I didn't upload the second chapter. SO SORRY! Here's part 2:**

Holy crap I'm sore…what was I doing last night? For that matter, where am I? This isn't my quarters–

Oh. I'm dead. That would explain why I feel extremely hot and see nothing but dark. I guess this is Hell. I should have figured I'd end up this way. I may have been fighting for the right side, but I suppose I could have been a bit more merciful about it…

"Hey! Are you okay?"

"Dumb question, Lincoln. Don't bother. Not even a Pilot could live through a blast like that with no cover."

"I want to make sure. Maybe if we take off the helmet–"

Darkness is replaced by light, and my head feels a rush of cooler –but still hot– air. Staring in my face is a helmeted figure, and another stands behind him. A small orange rock face is the background, along with lighter orange skies with dozens of streams of smoke trailing up. This doesn't look quite like Hell.

Drawing in a deep breath, I speak. "Who the heck are you?"

The figure jumps back in surprise. "Oh snap, he's alive! He's actually alive!"

Hang on, this is Demeter. I was just slammed into a specter rig by a massive explosion. And I'm alive. Not bad, Construct. Groaning, I try to force myself up. I expect pain. No way did my arms and legs not get broken, if not my neck.

Instead, my joints creak and ache but I actually stand. Holy crap, I'm fine. The guy before me backs away; I can just imagine his mouth agape. His friend has a similar reaction. The latter speaks.

"Whoah. I..I guess now would be a good time to say thank you?"

I respond, "Thanks? For what?"

"For saving our lives."

I notice the IMC logos on their outfits. Then I remember everything. Macallan's message, running, the downed fighter, the rig, the blast.

"Oh…Well…You're welcome. To be honest I really wasn't expecting to survive that."

The first guy steps forward, taking off his own helmet. "My name's Max Lincoln, designated IMC Lieutenant 1-Lincoln-6. This is my friend Luxen, officially private 2-Rayman-7. The third guy, Richard, didn't make it."

I crick my neck. "Pilot designation Construct M-43TR. Call me Construct."

I look around. Most of my Titan's been blown away, and some pieces of wreckage are scattered about. The rig's still sitting upright, the blast not having been partially deflected away. My C.A.R. is nowhere to be found, but my old B3 Wingman is still in its holster. As far as I can see, the massive fueling facility of Demeter lies in pieces, only a few large structures still standing. Turning back to the grunts, I say, "I don't suppose you have a ship to call in."

Luxen shakes his head. "Afraid not. I think that when the core went critical any ships in orbit jumped as far away as they could. We've been awake for about fifteen minutes. My HUD still works, and the clock says the blast happened about an hour and a half ago. I can't see any communication stations still standing, but there is one option."

"And that is?"

Turning, the grunt points away. Amidst the wreckage is a large building, like a warehouse. About a third of it has been vaporized or torn off by explosions, but most of it is intact.

Max says, "That's a hangar. It's a long shot, but there may be a dropship still in one piece in there."

After thinking for a moment, I start walking in the distant building's direction. Looking back, I see the others standing, confused. I call back, "Well? We've got a long walk ahead, let's get started!"

Luxen and Max chase after me obediently, slowing to match my pace when they catch up. I guess a Pilot, enemy or friendly is impressive to them. Max says, "Hey Construct?"

"Yeah?"

"Luxen already said it, but I want to say so again. Thanks for saving our lives. Especially since we're on opposite sides. You could have just shot us, but instead you basically gave your life."

I smile for once. "Well, not much point in me killing you or you killing me. Since both our fleets are who-knows-where in the Frontier, and we're no doubt listed as K.I.A., I think that we can consider ourselves discharged and friends. At least until someone finds us. Then I'll probably be put in an IMC court and end up in prison for the rest of my life."

Max smiles back, and responds, "I think the testimony of your attempted rescue of three marines from two IMC officers will be enough to lessen the blow."

I laugh. "Thanks. But we're not out yet."

Luxen speaks. "Let's hurry up, then. I'd like to get off this dead orange rock and head home."

"Agreed."

**What did you think of my first Titanfall fanfic? Leave a review!**

**Also, if you want a challenge, I left a reference to Need for Speed Rivals in here. If you can find it, let me know!**

**Afternote: I can confirm there is a sequel in the works. Be patient.**


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